


Royal Selfie

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Good Parent Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 15:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20066098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Regis doesn't get to get out much any more, but Noctis is good about bringing the outside world in.





	Royal Selfie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts), [glaivenoct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaivenoct/gifts).

Regis had learnt to keep a set of reading glasses in the breast pocket of his suit. They were indispensable when a complicated form came rushing through his hallways in the hands of a harried page or intern, or a scrap of message or news that was too delicate to be spoken aloud in the echoing halls was handed over in a discreet exchange from Clarus or Cor or Drautos. They sat low on his nose, though, and he struggled with the comfort of them— the urge to push them upward was a temptation he had been advised to resist, and after some indulgences in that instinct he had learnt why. 

He wasn’t fond of the glasses overall. Clarus scolded him for vanity, Cor teased him for getting old. 

But in truth, they were a nuisance. They smudged at inopportune times, they were uncomfortable when needed at first, and he was always worried that the lenses would be scratched or the delicate frames would be bent. 

“When did you even get those?”

“About three months ago,” Regis paused as he unfolded the narrow spectacles from his pocket and slipped them on. Both relieved and frustrated that the small screen his son was showing him instantly sharpened to a crystal clear image. “I think. Now what was this?”

He really shouldn’t permit Noctis to sit as he was— balanced on an armrest of the throne, steadied in place by the back of the royal seat. He was curled in a way that only he could be, Regis had found— poised to leap to a more respectable distance as trained, but coiled close with the phone expertly held and navigated in one hand. 

“You asked what I was up to last weekend.”

“In all honesty, my boy, I expected a Cor-style report.”

“I could do that if you want,” the little smirk on Noctis’ face was a familiar sign of tempting trouble; “But it’s hard to describe a tipsy Ignis without pictures.”

Regis had always refused to follow in his father’s example when it came to family and the throne. He could not hope to have the fortitude to maintain Noctis at an arm’s length when his boy had always been so welcoming and affectionate where possible. He could let the lines between king and father blur easily if it meant moments like this in the lofty, cavernous throne room. There had always been a staircase between him as his father when he was Noctis’ age— the imposing stature of his king on the throne a reminder of the delicate nature of his future as balancing the image of the kingdom with the desires of a family. 

He steadied Noctis further with a supportive arm. “Does Ignis even drink?”

“He outdid Gladio, it was hilarious.”

The pictures were all lively images of a brightly coloured restaurant, plates of ever-changing sushi coming into focus with each easy swipe to the screen. Regis could see the night in vivid detail this way— the way the camera of the phone crept off centre, and the focus slipped towards the friends gathered around Noctis. Steadfast, stern Gladio laughing with a whole serving of wasabi about to enter his mount; calm, collected Ignis with his pointed words and comments, clearly arguing something on the menu by pointing at it with his chopsticks, rice still sticking to his hand where a poorly made roll must have fallen apart. There was the blond boy in more photos with Noctis— wide smile and bright eyes as he held up whole pieces of fish between them. 

A moment of some joke captured at an odd angle. 

“You certainly had fun.”

The place appeared to have been bright and loud and the exuberance of youth captured easily. 

“Yeah…” Noctis seemed to blush as he started to appear in more of the pictures, much to Regis’ amusement; “There’s a lot of selfies after that.”

“Selfies?”

“Pictures of yourself. Got the habit from Prompto, I think.”

Regis offered a smile of his own, “Clearly much faster than the usual royal portrait.”

Noctis seemed to hesitate a moment; a moment of thought before he lifted the phone to a high angle above them both and leaned in close. “Smile, Dad.”

He caught a glimpse of himself for a second before a static image of himself with Noctis was brought up for inspection. 

“I can’t say I’ve ever had my picture done like that before.”

“I can delete—”

“No no. I think I like it.”

Noctis was chased from his perch by a stern look from Clarus as he entered the throne room moments later. The sign for the rest of the day to continue around them, the meetings and pageantry of their roles evaded long enough. Later, after Noctis had vanished again into his life away from the Citadel, Regis would finally have the chance to address the personal emails waiting for him in his study; the quiet account usually only needing a glance in the evening. 

“Clarus?”

“Yes, Majesty?”

“I’d like this printed.” The picture taken earlier was the only personal message waiting for him, Noctis’ message left blank around it. He smiled brightly to his friend as Clarus raised a brow at the informal image of the King of Lucis. “Noctis told me about selfies today. Have you—”

“I have a teenage daughter, Reggie, I can’t escape these things if I tried.”


End file.
